


Red

by merkuria



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU, Angst, Drug Use, Infidelity, M/M, Prostitution, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-02 15:22:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merkuria/pseuds/merkuria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The drug played tricks with time, and the moment stretched in a sweet curve of lazy joy that was turning sharper with every breath, like a blade that went steadily deeper, until Bones didn’t want to wait any longer and reached for Jim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red

**Author's Note:**

> Jim loves Bones, but both of them love red. AU with no happy end.

**Red**

It had many names, but he always called it _red_ , not only because of its color, but because it felt like fire, heat spreading from the centre and licking at the skin from the inside. It started low in the pit of his stomach; warmth travelling up until it reached the tips of his fingers and trickled down, loosening up muscles and erasing any pain in his legs. He could swear it was liquid filling him up and making him light at the same time.

He liked to shoot up standing, to feel the sensation spread and claim his body. It only took one, two, five seconds before the drug hit his brain and everything was good again. He dropped the hypo on the bed, next to where Jim lay in the tangle of sheets. Careless, but they wouldn’t be needing it any time soon anyway, because Sulu came through with the good stuff. He licked his lips, thinking of the next twelve hours with Jim in his little room, and the clear, distilled happiness in their veins.

Bones looked down at Jim, who was smiling with eyes half closed, everything about him gold and light, pleasure radiating off his skin in waves that Bones felt with his whole body. Soon it would bring out the hunger, but they still had a minute or two to enjoy the build-up.

“You comin’?” Jim’s words thrummed along his nerves, tickling Bones’ skin like the fine hairs on the insides of Jim’s thighs.

“Yeah, yeah.”

The drug played tricks with time, and the moment stretched in a sweet curve of lazy joy that was turning sharper with every breath, like a blade that went steadily deeper, until Bones didn’t want to wait any longer and reached for Jim.

***

Jim never got tired of hearing the story.

“Tell it again,” he asked as they were both coming down some hours later. _Tell it again, tell it again_ whispered into his ear, Jim’s voice rough from what he had been doing, mouth still slick, _tell it again_ , Jim’s nails raking lines down Bones’ chest because they were hardly done for the night.

“I almost puked on you in that damn death trap,” Bones started and felt Jim relax next to him, into him. “Space can full of goddamn kids, and you, all beaten and roughed up, and still so damn pretty,” he ended in time to help Jim climb onto his lap.

“Mhm, you’re just saying that because you want me to ride you,” Jim laughed, his hips moving in a lazy to and fro.

“That I do, but you were, and are, the prettiest of them all.” That earned him a smile, bright and open, and another slow grind. Bones propped himself up, coming close to mouth at Jim’s jaw, not quite reaching his lips. “You gonna be nice to me, pretty?”

“Oh, I might be, _doctor_.”

***

They met six months earlier at the Starfleet hospital, one spring day after Jim injured his elbow working on an engine. Being a mechanic at the Starfleet garage got Jim medical care, but wasn’t enough to hold the attention of the doctor or the nurse for longer than necessary, and soon he was left waiting for the orderly to bring him a sling.

Bones wasn’t quite sure how helping Jim into the sling turned into kissing, turned into groping, and ended with both of them coming in their pants, but it sure was the start of a beautiful friendship, if anyone asked. It wasn’t long after that he had Jim in his flat, spread wide on the bed, biting his lower lip as Bones opened him up.

He couldn’t remember if they used that first night, if Jim had any on him. He did the day after, when he turned up at Bones’ door, brighter than the sun. Bones knew about the dangers, could recite them all, but in the moment they didn’t seem quite real, or even relevant, not when Jim was telling him how good it would feel, how right. Jim whispering in his ear erased whatever feeble protestations he was about to make and he let Jim push the plug, and then push it again. The first time because Jim asked him, the second because it felt like his life had just then started, the past washed away under the gentle _sssss_ of the hypo.

***

Bones couldn’t remember ever wanting anyone like this. It felt like a solid shape in his stomach, something he carried inside him whenever he went. It had to show, he thought, surely. The days felt sharper, more intense, even if his job remained the same dead-end drudgery it had always been. Simply having something to wait for gave him a little more spring in his step, the world suddenly a more beautiful place with Jim right under his skin.

The first _I love you_ burst from him after, after he’d had his lion’s share, after Jim gave and gave, and in that moment Bones was done resisting, done pretending. Nothing about them was casual, not the heavy punch of need he felt whenever Jim was within reach, not the joy that hit him like a wall of heat when Jim smiled and whispered into his skin, least of all the savage need to give Jim everything he needed.

Nature re-arranged itself around them and now life started in the evenings when they both got back from work. The clock started running the moment the door closed behind Jim, nothing before that worth remembering. Only the thrill of Jim’s golden skin and the red crystals that took them both away, into the sky, where Jim was the captain and he was the doctor, the space theirs for the taking.

***

It started one night when Jim brought an officer’s uniform, a steely grey jacket that made his eyes bluer than ever. Bones’ fingers trembled as he fought with the fastenings, Jim a live wire in his lap. “I almost applied to Starfleet, you know,” Jim laughed between kisses, “I almost did that, all to piss off my mother. In the end I decided it wasn’t worth it.” Bones succeeded and the jacket was finally off, but before he could fling it to the floor Jim stopped him with a quiet _uh-uh_ and fished in one of the pockets, retrieving a small red capsule. He waved it teasingly.

“Your captain’s brought you a gift.”

“Captain, eh? Well then, _captain_ , what are your orders?”

Jim looked at him, pausing, and said, “You’re going to fuck me. You’re going to fuck me the way you know I like, then we’re going to take some of this the lovely red and we’re going to fuck again. And after that you’re going to tell me the story.”

It was difficult to focus on anything other than the way Jim’s lips curled around the word _fuck_ , but he managed to gasp, “What story?” as Jim made short work of undressing him. 

“The best story. Our story.”

***

That night the Enterprise was born. Bones never considered himself much of a storyteller, but Jim couldn’t get enough. The tale of the great ship and its illustrious crew grew longer and more complex with every retelling, new details added on as the old became as solid as reality itself. Better than Bones’ repetitive days spent cleaning the hospital halls, better than Jim’s exhausting shifts at the garage. Nothing really compared.

Up there they were the doctor and the captain, a duo as there had never been before. Jim made Bones steal a doctor’s coat from work and wear it while Jim sucked him off. Bones didn’t care as long as Jim’s lips were around him, didn’t mind Jim asking to be told about adventures on far-away planets or about that time he saved the universe. The fantasy, fed by the red crystals Jim always seemed to have on him, seemed harmless enough. It was seductive, almost as much as Jim himself as he sat in his lap, rocking and whispering, “Would you take me in my captain’s chair? Would you like that?”, a stray _doctor_ enough to make Bones thrust harder.

It became everything.

***

Mornings got harder though. Coming down was never too pleasant, but never less so than after a weekend filled with sex, hypos, and Jim’s happy laughter. Bones didn’t think they were in trouble, not yet. There were still days when they weren’t using, Jim’s slight frown enough to tell him he didn’t manage to score any. They didn’t need it; just being together was more than enough.

Jim’s love-making was a wonder. Their first night they couldn’t do everything they wanted, Jim’s injury to blame, but Bones could still remember how his body felt under Jim’s lips. Unfamiliar and out of sync, as Jim navigated his body for the first time, it still drew from him a steady string of _more._ Bones soon learned Jim’s mouth was always hot and his body ready for more, fiercely, recklessly so. There was something darker, heavier underneath it, a hint of desperation Bones wanted to understand and was sure he would, one day soon.

But for a little longer yet, they could play. Just a little distraction. A short escape from the ordinary. Even if somewhere along the way twelve hours of high turned to ten turned to eight, and it was little more than six now before they needed another dose. More and more of it, as the days grew shorter, and there never seemed to be enough. Bones had moments when he thought that maybe, just maybe, he should stop Jim – they had been using quite a lot lately – but they never lasted long. Come evening Jim would beckon him to pull the sleeve up and press the hypo into his arm, the telltale hiss as welcome as Jim’s warm arms around him.

***

He did not see that coming. Jesus, how could he ever think he would find Jim in his room down on his knees before a strange man? It looked too absurd to be true. Bones stood still in the doorway, unable to go in or move back, his world narrowed down to the sight of Jim’s red lips, left all wet now that the other man had pulled out, and  the black mascara running down his cheeks. He barely registered the stranger pushing past him in a rush, didn’t hear his mumbled goodbyes over the noise roaring in his ears.

When he saw the crumpled notes lying on the floor, it only took him three steps to get to where Jim was still on his knees and backslap him as hard as he could. It added to the mess on Jim’s face and made him get up slowly while Bones groped around in his head for words, anything he could ask to get an explanation or an excuse that would put the world back together.

Before he found it Jim wiped the blood from his split lip and said quietly, “You didn’t know,” the barest note of surprise in his voice. “I thought you did. I thought you must have.” He waved his hand towards the small plastic bag lying on the table.  “Where did you think the money for it came from? My job?” Jim didn’t sound reproachful, just so very tired. “Do you have any idea how much it costs? How much we’ve been using?” The words came faster than Bones could process them, the image of the stranger using Jim tripping his mind over and over.

Had he known? He should have. Jim’s salary was as meager as his, and Sulu did no giveaways. Suddenly he remembered all the little things. How Jim would always come out with a sore throat, despite the scarves Bones put around him, how he would come home scratched and exhausted, blaming it on work. That one time Bones found eyeliner in his coat pocket. The missing hours, strange colognes, endless showers.

Little bags full of red.

***

They tried to quit. Their first sober Saturday left them broken with pain and cruel. Bones couldn’t imagine going one more day without, and when Jim left on Sunday morning only to come back an hour later with the stuff, he didn’t ask questions. 

The first time Bones knowingly left the apartment to let another man use Jim, he barely made it to the curb before he threw up. The images of Jim having to submit to whatever was asked of him ran through his mind on a loop until he couldn’t stop the tears. He would never allow it again.  Nothing was worth it, not even red.

But of course it happened a second time, and then a third. The sordidness of it all did not lessen, nor did the guilt that choked him every time, but they fell into a routine of sorts. Bones would leave a good while before the scheduled time, not trusting himself around Jim’s clients. He would kill the next john, surely, the whole thing unbearable no matter Jim’s assurances. He came back when Jim messaged him, a short _It’s_ d _one_ enough to cut into Bones’ heart.

He ran all the way back. As fast as he could, to wrap his arms tightly around Jim. The hypo took but a second and then he could comfort Jim, take him up into the sky on another adventure. They both needed it now. The story seemed the only happy and pure thing they had left. _Oh, you should see yourself, Jim, the youngest Starfleet captain in history._ _The chair was made for you and everyone can see it. The entire ship was made for you and they know it. You always tell me how beautiful she is, and that she’ll always be yours. Enterprise. I am jealous sometimes, because you love that damn piece of metal so much, but I’ll never leave my captain. What would you do without a doctor?_

***

He never stopped counting Jim’s clients. He never counted his own.


End file.
